


Scenes from a Bad Teen Drama

by ThrillingDetectiveTales



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Community: grimm_kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrillingDetectiveTales/pseuds/ThrillingDetectiveTales
Summary: In which the enemies-of-the-week might be staking out Monroe’s house for nefarious purposes so Nick climbs through the window instead of using the door.(Inspired by a prompt fromgrimm_kinkon DW.)





	Scenes from a Bad Teen Drama

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this prompt](https://grimm-kink.dreamwidth.org/3689.html?thread=1833065#cmt1833065) over on **grimm_kink** , that’s been sitting there unfilled for like, six years or so? And then C got me hooked on the show so I went trawling through ye olde prompte poste for something that sparked my interest and didn’t even accurately fill it. Oops.
> 
> If you’re unfamiliar with this fandom, all you really need to know is that Nick is a grimm - a hunter of supernatural fairy tale beings, or wesen - and Monroe is a blutbad, which is a creature that exists in the intersection where werewolves and the Big Bad Wolf converge. This is mostly just an exercise to test out their voices, and as such it is short, unbetaed, and makes use of mishmashed not-quite-German, in keeping with the spirit of the show.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I hope you understand how absurd this is,” Monroe said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

Nick shot him a severely unimpressed look from where he had one leg, clad in scandalously tight black denim, hitched over the sill of Monroe’s bedroom window.

“It’s _necessary_ ,” he countered, huffing a breath that lifted a few dark strands of hair off his forehead to flutter riotously for a moment before resettling. He heaved himself up and swung gracefully over, landing on the notoriously creaky floorboards of Monroe’s bedroom with so little noise that cat-burglars the world over wept. He dusted his palms off against the meat of his thighs in a couple of quick, confident swipes and flashed Monroe a grin that was entirely too pleased with itself. “Besides, it’s kind of fun. Makes everything feel illicit, you know? Like sneaking out past curfew.”

Monroe snorted and put his head to one side, taking in the long, lean lines of the grimm standing before him. Nick certainly looked like something that had just walked out of a trashy teen fantasy - black boots, black jeans, black leather jacket, henley so dark a grey it might as well be black. His skin shone against it all like fine marble and those blue eyes glowed sapphire bright above his luscious pink smirk.

“Far be it from me to keep you from reliving your youthful heyday, dude,” Monroe said, absently lifting one shoulder in a lazy, half-formed shrug. “I’m just saying it’s kinda sad to see a thirty-two year old man crawling through the back window for a little nookie on a Saturday night.”

He paused for a moment, considering, and added, “If you can even call this night. It’s like five o’clock. The sun isn’t even down yet.”

“I can’t believe you just said ‘nookie,’” Nick commented, completely ignoring Monroe’s jovial censure of his behavior and crossing the room in a few eager, powerful strides. He stopped a foot or so away and whipped his hand out to slip a couple of fingers through the front-left belt loop of Monroe’s green corduroy slacks. The look he shot from under those obscenely long eyelashes was hot and warm and sweet. “1998 called, it wants its slang back.”

“Oh yeah?” Monroe asked pleasantly, uncrossing his arms and putting his palms to better use settling into the familiar grooves of Nick’s trim hips. The jacket was cool to the touch, carrying the chill of early November in from outside, but Nick was a pillar of heat beneath it. Monroe leaned in and bumped their noses together, rewarded for his efforts when Nick’s lips parted just so to reveal a sliver of white teeth and a flash of pink tongue. “Maybe it can broker a trade with 2014 for the return of your dignity.”

“Wow,” Nick drawled approvingly, his breath hitching around a laugh that gusted soft and sweet over Monroe’s chin, blue eyes glittering with mirth. “Ice cold, blutbad.”

“Gotta go for the killing blow when you tangle with a grimm,” Monroe replied, grinning. They were close enough that their lips brushed when he spoke, Nick’s presence blanketing his senses in a heady, comforting cloud.

He still thought all the cloak-and-dagger maneuvers were somewhat foolish, but he had to admit that if any agents of the traditionalist grimm cult that’d rolled into town were lurking outside the house to catch Nick in the act of having untoward relations with a member of the wesen community, he’d be hard-pressed to sense them through a nose all full of Nick smelling like sweat and leather and want. He tilted his head just enough to capture Nick’s soft mouth with his own, savoring the slight drag of Nick’s scruff against his beard and the way he swayed in closer like he was tied to Monroe by some interior gravity. He made a contented little noise in the back of his throat and Monroe delved his tongue in after it, seeking to swallow it down, wondering whether it tasted as sweet as it sounded.

“I can’t risk them finding out about you,” Nick breathed a moment later, during the few miserable seconds when Monroe was forced to abandon him to the mercy of the open air so they could catch a breath. “Who knows what they’d - “

Monroe cut him off without hesitation, because there were far better things Nick could be doing with his talented tongue than speculating on the prejudices of a sect of his most loathsome peers. He melted into it willingly, moaning against Monroe’s teeth and allowing Monroe to guide him backward toward the bed, all that supernatural grace put to service following the steps of a familiar dance that Monroe had led him through a hundred times before now.

He gasped when his thighs hit the edge of the mattress, tugging hard enough at the scrap of corduroy looped around his fingers that Monroe thought it might break. Not that he much cared. He’d sacrificed easily half his wardrobe to Nick’s questionable control under the frenzied promise of their coupling, already, and it was hardly as though he hadn’t rent the occasional button-down to pitiful scraps like so much tissue paper in the heat of the moment, himself. It would be silly to start worrying about sartorial casualties now.

Nick yanked again and Monroe stumbled forward at his beckoning, basking in the grimm’s heat where it spilled all down his front at the sudden, blissful contact of their bodies. He sighed Nick’s name, tucking his face into the sweet curve of Nick’s throat, and Nick splayed his free hand out wide over Monroe’s belly, rucking up the hem of his garishly patterned fall sweater with lazy sweeps of his calloused thumb.

“They can have as much of my dignity as they want,” Nick murmured, voice low and rough, “as long as it means I get to keep you safe.”

Monroe snorted, touched and awed and embarrassed, and pressed a wet, sucking kiss to the tender skin just behind Nick’s ear.

“We keep _each_ _other_ safe, idiot,” he said, and let his grip on Nick’s hips tighten enough to bruise, pinning the other man in place as he rocked forward. Nick groaned, long and low, and let his head fall back, exposing the elegant column of his neck, all fresh, unmarred skin ripe for the tasting. “And that includes from things like falling to your death because you want to play-act Buffy and Angel.”

He pressed his tongue to the taut tendon on Nick’s left side, a shiver rolling hot up his spine at the way Nick whimpered and sank his own teeth into the lush cupid’s bow of his lower lip.

“I’m obviously Buffy in this analogy,” Monroe added in a low murmur, words lost against the throbbing pulse drumming up from Nick’s jugular. It made his teeth itch and his heart pound, predatory, even as Nick laughed, open and unafraid.

“How come you get to be Buffy?” he gasped, syllables stuttering out half-formed as he rolled his hips against Monroe’s, disentangling his hands to clutch desperately at the soft cashmere of Monroe’s sweater.

“Because I’m not stupid enough to scale a building to get my rocks off.” Monroe laved a line from Nick’s jaw to his collarbone, letting his teeth scrape with enough rough promise to make Nick suck a desperate breath past his teeth, fingers twitching where they were curled against Monroe’s abdomen. “Unlike some grimms I know.”

“I don’t hear you complaining,” Nick groused, squirming away from the mattress just enough to allow Monroe to slide his hands around from Nick’s hips to the delectable curve of his ass.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break your fool head coming up that trellis,” Monroe continued, ignoring Nick in favor of nosing past the collar of his shirt to nuzzle the fine fuzz of hair climbing up his chest. “Couldn’t even wait until the Warhegrimmig skip town.”

He squeezed and pressed Nick back again, chasing the angle that slotted their hard lengths together through layers of fabric, even the painfully deadened friction enough to send a powerful frisson of want shuddering out across his shoulders. Nick made a sharp, desperate sound and reared back a few spare centimeters to glare at him, reaching up to fist one of his hands just the wrong side of too-tight in Monroe’s curls.

“I didn’t sneak across town and outwit an evil organization for you to fuck me on Monday, or in two weeks, or _whenever_ those bastards finally leave,” he hissed, his eyes flint-hard chips of glistening want. He licked his lips, mouth swollen and red, red, red. Somewhere inside Monroe, the wolf roared to life, and he felt the bloody, burning color catch and set his gaze aglow, everything about Nick spiking brighter and hotter and more. Nick grinned, candy-apple mouth tilting to a knife-edge at the corners, and tugged at Monroe’s hair hard enough to hurt, to make Monroe growl, deep and warning. “So, shut up, and make this worth my while, would you?”

Monroe dragged his tongue across teeth gone suddenly sharp enough to be dangerous and took Nick down to the mattress with all the vicious finesse of an apex predator, body humming as Nick moaned and gasped and laughed. He sprawled heavy and intent over the warm, pliant body beneath him, and set about following Nick’s blessedly open-ended instructions without even the usual bout of good-tempered grumbling.

After all, Nick had climbed all the way up here. It was really the least Monroe could do.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> It is entirely possible I will be jotting down more featuring these nerds because my inspiration for anything else has largely been in the can recently. With that in mind, I sincerely hope this bit of silliness was to your liking.


End file.
